Misunderstood
by AngelUnicorn00
Summary: How far can someone go before they break? How well do you actually know someone? Joe thought he knew his brother through and through, but Frank has some secrets that could kill him. And it takes Frank being kidnapped for anyone to see it. (Rated T for mentions of suicidal thoughts.)


10 Jan. 19: Minor editing, no plot changes.

* * *

"Morning Joe!" Iola said, striding into the Kitchen.

Chet was right behind her, until he saw the pancakes. "Mmmmm. Whose are those?"

" _Those_ are Frank's. But _these_ are yours," Joe replied, grabbing a plate off the counter.

Biff, Tony, Phil, and Callie walked in a moment later.

"Hey Joe. Where's Frank?" Callie asked, looking around.

"He's still in bed," Joe replied, trying not to laugh. Finishing his pancakes, he said, "I'll go get 'im. Help yourselves to the rest of the pancakes. Just save Frank some!"

As Joe went up to Frank's room, everyone talked about their plan.

"I can't wait to get to the beach!" Iola said.

"Me neither. I'm going to swim _all_ the way across Barmet Bay this year," Biff said.

"Don't forget our 'Tour-Day-France' competition," Tony added.

"Tony, we're just going to race on our bikes on a track," Phil said. "It's less than a mile long."

"Picky picky," Tony shot back.

Joe came running back down the stairs. "He's gone!"

"WHAT!?"

"Yeah! He's been kidnapped!"

Joe held out four notes, three looked like they were folded up normally, but one looked like it was once a paper airplane. One of them was ripped in half. They said, in order . . .

" _ **Drop the case Frank, or we'll take you out of it."**_

" _ **You won't be free, or alive, for long . . . "**_

" _ **We are**_ _**watching you. Last warning!"**_

" _ **Time's up. Come out here, or we'll pull your brother into this!"**_

"He let himself get kidnapped to protect _me_ ," Joe mused. "We _have_ to find him!"

"Let's check around the house. Maybe we'll find a clue," Iola said.

Everyone rushed outside, looking around every door and window for footprints. There was only one set out the back door.

Following the prints, that Joe said were Frank's, they headed into the woods behind the house.

Joe kept thinking to himself, _'Please don't be out here hurt. Please don't be out here hurt.'_

The prints lead to a dirt road, stopping at a set of tires tracks. What scared Joe the most, was how 'clean' the area was.

There was _no_ sign of a struggle.

"He went willingly," Joe said. "Why?"

"Dumb questions don't get answered, Joe," Tony said, trying to lighten the mood. "Don't worry, it's not like this is his first kidnapping."

They headed back to the house.

"I know. But this kidnapping is _weird!_ I've never seen one handled like this. *Sigh* I wish Mom and Dad were home."

Once in the house, Joe called the Police Station. After telling Chief Colligs what he found, the Chief agreed to come out and check.

He went to call his Dad, but stopped. _'They'll be home tomorrow morning. No need to worry them now.'_

He set the phone back on the charger, only for it to ring. The voice on the other end nearly fixed Joe's morning.

"Hardy residence, Joe Hardy speaking."

"Hey Joey. Frank here-"

"Frank! Where are you!? Are you alright!?"

Everyone crowded around to listen, so Joe put it on speaker phone.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Have no _clue_ where I am though."

"What happened? Can you try to escape? How'd you keep your phone?"

"Whoa, one question at a time. They didn't search me, so I kept my phone. They threatened to bring you into this, so I went out to meet them. They blindfolded me, so I couldn't tell where we went. They drove for an hour, to throw me off. And I would try to escape, but . . . I'm a little _tied up_ right now."

"Did they hurt you?" Callie asked.

"Who are 'they'?" Joe asked.

"No, they haven't hurt me, and they don't plan to. As for who they are, they're -"

"Hey! Where'd you get that!?" A girl voice said.

"Uh oh, sorry guys. I've gotta cut this short-"

"Wait! What do you want!?" Joe yelled, hoping to reason with the person.

"We warned you about the cases Frank. We warned you." The phone call ended.

Joe looked down at the phone, dejected, until a thought came to him. Phone in hand, he flew up the stairs into Frank's room.

By the time everyone else was there, he had the phone hooked up to Frank's computer. Using the tracking software, he tried to pin point Frank's location.

"Okay, he's still in America . . . And he's still in New York state . . . He's still in our county! That's pretty close." Then it stopped. "Drats! They turned off the phone. I can't get any closer. At least we have the general idea on where to look." Saving the map, he printed it off. "Chief Colligs will need a copy, and so will we."

At that moment, the doorbell rang.

"I bet that's him."

The next hour was spent searching the yard, the woods, asking people around here if they heard anything, and going over the morning multiple times.

"Where did you find the notes?" Officer Con asked.

"I found them on Frank's desk. They were out of place, so I noticed them instantly."

"Did you find any sign of a struggle?"

"That's what scares me the most. I found no sign of a struggle at all. I bet that last note has something to do with it."

Chief Colligs walked in. "Joe, we're about to search Frank's room. I thought you might like to be there."

"Thanks Chief."

An Officer rushed in. "Chief Colligs, we have a problem, sir."

"*Sigh* What could possibly be wrong now?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Hardy are home."

Fenton walked into the room, with Laura right behind him. "What is going on here!?"

"Hey Dad, hey Mom. Did you have a nice trip?"

Laura rushed over to Joe, and gave him a big hug. "Are you alright!? What happened!? Where's Frank!?"

"He got kidnapped."

"We can't leave you two alone for a minute, none-the-less a week," Fenton said. "What have you found so far?"

"Don't look at me," Chief Colligs said. "The kids already found everything there was to find. We were just about to search Frank's room."

"Lead the way."

Chief Colligs, Fenton, and Joe went up to Frank's room. Ten minutes passed, but their search turned up nothing.

"There's nothing abnormal in his desk, under his bed, under his mattress, in his closet, or anywhere. What are we missing? Frank and I aren't on a case."

"Joe did Frank ever tell you about a secret place he puts things?" Fenton asked.

Joe thought it over and blushed slightly. "Well . . . I put a false bottom in my nightstand's drawer. Maybe . . . "

Joe walked over and pulled out the drawer. Dumping the contents on Frank's bed, he measured the drawer height with his hand.

"Either the wood is _really_ thick on the bottom, or we've found what we're looking for."

Sticking his finger into a 'knot' in the front, he pulled up the bottom. His jaw dropped. Inside were three prescription medications and a journal.

"This cannot be good," Fenton said, picking up the bottles. "This one is Toperamate, this one is Hydromorphone, and this one is Norparamin."

"What are they for?" Joe asked.

"I don't know, but I'm about to find out."

While Fenton looked up the medicines on the internet, Joe looked through the journal.

Fenton turned around in the chair. "I had no idea. Toperamate stops nightmares, Hydromorphone stops pain, and Norparamin is for anxiety and depression."

"You think that's bad, listen to this." Flipping through the book, he read: "I _wanted to drive off the road this morning. Joe stopped me." "Nightmare: Joe got shot." "Nightmare: The house burned, with everyone in it." "Nearly jumped off the bridge earlier." "Nightmare: Joe was kidnapped and tortured." "I'm going to the doctor tomorrow."_ "I had no idea he was suicidal! What does it mean that I stopped him?"

"You were in the car."

Fenton and Joe looked at Colligs, confused. "You knew about this?"

"Sort of. He was acting strangely a few months ago. It hindered a case, so I confronted him about it. He tried to act like it was nothing, but he let it slip that he was having trouble. He said that he'd go to the doctor if I promised not to tell anyone about it. I didn't like it, but I had to agree."

"Why didn't you tell me!?" Fenton yelled, standing up. "We could have helped him!"

"Because I promised not to. And he did come talk to me about things, every so often." Colligs thought a second. "I knew he slightly suicidal, but I didn't know about the nightmares or any pain he had."

Laura opened the door. "What did you just say!?"

After they calmed her down, they headed back downstairs. Chief Colligs got Officer Con and the other two Officers and left. "If we find anything, we'll call you. Don't worry, we'll find him."

Laura put together some sandwiches for everyone, remembering that Phil was Ciliac, Biff couldn't have cow's milk, Iola couldn't have cheese (because of cheese mold), and Fenton was vegan.

Joe pulled out the map, to show his Dad. "Frank called this morning, right after I called the Police Station."

"What did he say!?"

Joe repeated the phone call.

Fenton was also surprised. "Wait a minute. Whoever took Frank put up this elaborate thing, and they left him his phone?"

"Apparently. But I'm sure he doesn't have it now."

Fenton sighed. "Well, I guess the only thing we can do is look for him."

Chet suddenly remembered something. "Hey, I found a piece of paper. I think it fits that one ripped note."

They put the two pieces together. **_"You won't be free, or alive, for long . . . if you keep these cases up."_**

"Still a threat," Joe said with a sigh. "Still a threat."

One week later . . .

"Hey Mom. I'm home," Joe said, walking in the front door.

"Hey baby. How are you? How was school?"

"Good. Anyone call?"

"No. Have you gone looking today?"

"Not yet."

"Before you head out, can you grab some lotion from the pharmacy. I ran out."

"Okay Mom." Joe grabbed a cookie off the plate on the table. "And if I run into Chet, I'll deny that we have cookies."

At the store, Joe stood at the counter, waiting for a teenage boy to pay for his purchase.

" _A coloring book, fake earrings, a horror novel, and ten candy bars. He has siblings."_

"I'm sorry." The boy turned to Joe. "Can you help me?"

"Sure, what's wrong?"

"I can't figure out what to do exactly."

Taken back, Joe guessed the teen wasn't well. "It's simple. Put the items over there, she'll scan them and tell you how much it costs. Then, you give her the money. If you give her too much, then she'll hand you some money back."

"Oh, okay. So I really don't have to do anything."

"Not really."

After the boy paid for his, he insisted to pay for Joe's. "It's the least I can do."

"My name's Joe Hardy."

"My name's Thomas Anderson."

As they headed out the door, Joe asked, "Do you have a vehicle, or did you walk?"

"I drove. Do you need a lift?"

"No thank you. I'm not supposed to get into vehicle's with strangers."

"You have good parents."

"Thank you." Joe sighed.

"What's wrong?"

"My brother disappeared a week ago, and we can't find him. I'm worried."

"Really? What does he look like?"

Joe gave Thomas a description.

"Wait. Is he a detective?"

"Yes. Do you know him?"

"You don't know where he is!?"

"No. Do you know!?"

"I am so sorry! Come, I'll take you to him."

Joe climbed into the passenger seat of Thomas's van.

Ten minutes later, they pulled up to an old house.

" _I know this house!"_ Joe thought. _"That dirt road right there leads back to my house!"_

Thomas lead the way in. "Hey Dad! Ya here?"

"Hey Tommy. How'd it go?" An older man, about 40 years old came out of the kitchen, wearing an apron. "Who's this?"

"This is Joe Hardy, Frank's brother. Joe, this is my Dad, Wallis Anderson."

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you Joey."

"Thanks Mr. Anderson," Joe replied, a little uneasy.

"Oh please, don't be so formal. Call me Wallis."

"Okay, Mr. Wallis, where _is_ Frank? I need to see him."

"Dad, they don't know that Frank's here!"

"What!? *Sigh* Those kids. He's in the little girls' room. They've been in there for two hours now so . . ."

"So it's time to spring him out of there. Come on Joe." Thomas lead the way up the stairs. "Sorry about that, I guess I should have warned you. Everyone in my family is a little . . . off. We're _all_ adopted, and we're all _still_ his babies."

Joe laughed a little bit, as he walked into the girls' room. The four beds in the room had been pushed together, making one big bed. Frank was laying on the bed, asleep. Bows and ribbons were hanging in his hair. And he was covered up with a big, pink, princess blanket.

Joe walked over to his brother to wake him up, but the girls got in his way.

"No. We just put him down for a nap an hour ago. You let him sleep!"

Joe looked back over at Frank. Up close, he noticed that Frank was smiling a bit. And a white bit of fabric was wrapped around his arm.

Joe pulled back the blanket a bit. There was a gauze bandage on his arm. There was another on his other hand.

"What happened!?" Joe asked.

"Shhhh! Don't wake him!"

"Wha? What's going on?" Frank sat up and looked around. His eyes widened when he saw Joe. Pulling the blanket up, he tried to hide the bandages.

"Oh Frank. I've been worried sick about you." Joe gave Frank a hug. Leaning back, he added, "I take it they've been taking care of you."

Relieved, Frank chuckled. "Yeah. I'm not even allowed to _walk_ anywhere. They bring everything to me. I'm pretty tired of sitting still."

"Was it nice to be waited on hand and foot?" Joe joked.

"A little bit," Frank blushed.

"I was joking. They really waited on you?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Is it because of . . . Can Frank and I step down the hall a bit, to talk in private?"

The girls jumped up. "No! He can't walk, not with his banged up leg!"

Joe's eyes went wide. "'Banged up'? Is it that bad?"

Thomas took the cue. "Girls, they need some privacy. We'll be down in the Living Room if you need us."

Once the door was closed, Frank tried to explain. "They were exaggerating, it's not that bad. Just a few bumps and scrapes. Nothing to worry about."

"'Nothing to worry about'? How about the nightmare medication? Or the pain medication? Or the _anti-depression medication!?_ That's why they brought you here, isn't it? How long have you been going like this!?"

"Since you got shot a year ago. I . . . I just can't . . ." Tears started falling down Frank's face. "I just can't bear the thought of losing you."

Joe wrapped his arms around Frank, holding him close. "It's okay. I'm here."

It took a while for Frank to pull himself together, so Joe had time to think over everything Frank had done for him. He felt guilty for not noticing his brother drowning in everything.

"I'm sorry I wasn't a better brother to you, Frank. I'll be better, I promise."

"No, no, no, it's fine, don't blaim yourself."

"But I should have _noticed!"_

"Then I guess we're even."

"How's your leg? Be honest."

"Like I said, it's just some cuts and bruises. But they did say that I have a hair line fracture on my right tibia."

"Ow. I'm sorry man. How'd that happen?"

"Remember the case two weeks ago? I fell off the ladder."

"How high?"

"Three stories."

Joe shook his head. "And you say I'm stubborn. If you aren't allowed to walk, then how did you get around?"

"With that," Frank said, pointing at a makeshift wheelchair in the corner. "Once they strap me in, I can't get myself out."

"So you really were under 'bed arrest'."

"Yeah." Frank sat up on the edge of the bed. "Can you help me stand up? It hurts a bit."

"I'll _carry_ you, if I need to."

Joe helped Frank carefully stand up. He tested his weight on his leg and nodded. "Okay. As long as I'm careful, I should be able to walk."

Joe looked around the room once, then at Frank's hair. With a smile he asked, "Are you sure you aren't going to miss this?"

Taking Joe's snickers as a clue, he felt his head. He laughed. "A little help here."

"Um, nah, it looks good on you."

Frank removed the bows and ribbons, before heading out the bedroom door.

* * *

Fenton drove home as fast as the speed limit allowed. The phone call from his wife still ringing in his ears.

Ten minutes before . . .

 _Ring . . . Ring . . ._

"Fenton Hardy speaking."

"Fenton! Joe's been kidnapped!"

"What!?"

"I sent him to the Dollar Store, where Chet and Iola were waiting for him. But they were late, and they saw Joe get into a van with a boy, and they heard them talking about Frank. And the boy said he knew where Frank was! But Chet and Iola didn't have Chet's car, so they couldn't follow."

"Alright, I'm on my way home now. Give me ten minutes."

At the present . . .

Fenton pulled into the driveway. Jumping out of the car, he raced up the stairs into the house. Chet, Iola, Callie, and Biff were already there, sitting at the kitchen table.

"Tony and Phil will be here as soon as they can," Biff said.

"Oh Fenton. What are we going to do?"

Fenton hugged his sobbing wife. "Don't worry Laura. Our boys are smart. Once Joe finds Frank they'll be out of there in a heartbeat."

"Wow. Who died?"

Fenton spun around and saw Joe standing in the doorway, with his arm around Frank's shoulders.

"Frank!"

Everyone jumped up at once, making a mad dash for the doorway. Joe stepped forward, his arm out. "Whoa, hold it. He's hurt."

"Joe," Frank groaned. "I'm fine. I can take a hug."

"A hug, yes. A tackle, probably not." Joe stepped out of the way.

Laura rushed up and hugged Frank. "Oh my baby. My poor baby. Did they hurt you bad?"

"They didn't. I did it to myself."

Callie rushed up and hugged him next, planting a kiss on his cheek. "We were so worried about you. What happened?"

Frank walked into the room, aiming for the chair. _"My leg's startin' to ache."_

"I bet you roughed 'em up pretty good. Didn't ya Frank?" Biff gave him a playful punch to the shoulder, knocking him off balance. He fell to the floor clutching his leg.

Joe was at his side in a second. "You alright?"

Frank nodded his head, his breathing starting to normalize.

"I . . . I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were _that_ hurt."

"Oh, come sit down." Laura moved a chair out while Fenton and Joe helped Frank get off of the floor and sit down.

Thomas peaked around the corner. "Hey, sorry to interrupt."

Chet and Iola gasped. "You're the guy from earlier!"

"Yeah, I am. I wanted to apologise and explain. Frank saved my sister Molly a little while back, and she hasn't forgotten it. When she saw that Frank was hurt, she warned him to take it easy. He did for a little while, but he wanted to keep up with everyone so he got back into the game too early. So, Molly brought him to our house, under the guise that he was a hurt, lost hiker. But don't worry, he's been well taken care of."

"She should have come to us, instead of kidnapping him," Fenton said.

"I know, sir. But she's not entirely well. She does things that don't make sense to us. So, I'm really sorry about worrying you. And Frank, Dad _insists_ you come by to visit."

"As long as I don't have to use the wheelchair . . . And he's cookin' somethin'."

"I'll tell him you said that. I've gotta go, my Dad's waitin'. See ya around." The front door opened and closed, the sound of his departure.

Frank sighed. _"They know about everything now. How am I going to explain this? I've dealt with it with other people for years!"_

"Alright, I think it's time for a heart to heart talk," Fenton said, sitting down at the table.

Everyone else followed suit.

Frank hung his head. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm just not strong enough anymore."

The room fell silent.

"What!?"

Frank looked up Joe's outburst.

"Frank, you saw me get shot! Of course it affected you. We just didn't realize how much."

"It's called PTSD. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Anyone from a hurricane survivor to a firefighter can get it," Fenton said.

"I thought I could handle it."

"No, you were just enlongating the fuse on a bomb," Biff said. "My Uncle did the same exact thing you're doing, except no one found out about him until he had killed himself."

Fenton placed his hand on Frank's. "Tell me about when it all started. It'll help to get it out in the open."

"The truth is, I've been fighting it for years now, but it got really bad a year ago when Joe was shot. I have nightmares about it still . . . "

That night . . .

Joe laid in bed, afraid to go to sleep. _"What if he needs me."_

He thought about the conversation earlier. Frank had talked about things they didn't even know happened. They couldn't figure out why he hid how he felt, until Tony made a joke about him having a delicate psyche. Frank absolutely deflated at his words. Tears in his eyes, he had run out of the room, locking himself in the basement until they could find the spare key. Fenton made everyone leave after that.

" _Man, he is a mess!"_

Tired of not sleeping, he snuck into Frank's room. Frank was tossing and turning in his bed. Joe walked over and shook him. Frank snapped awake.

"You okay?"

Frank nodded.

"I won't tell anyone if you won't," Joe said, climbing in next to his brother. Once they were both snuggled in, Joe said, "We haven't done this since _I_ had nightmares. But I'm too big and tough for that now, right?"

Frank was quiet for a moment. "I guess."

"Ya know Frank, you can be childish around me. I won't tell."

"But I'm the big brother! I'm supposed to help and protect you."

"And you do, but I'm you little brother, so it's my job to help and protect you, while I drive you crazy."

Frank smiled.

"I've got your back, Frank."

"Promise?"

"I promise. And even if I do die, that just means I'll be able to point you out."

Frank laughed. Wiping tears out of his eyes, he said, "Thanks, I needed that."

"No problem Frank. It's what I'm here for. Now, how about that trip to the beach we missed?"

"Tomorrow _is_ Saturday."

Both boys smiled and fell asleep.

Laura found them like that the next morning. Joe had his arm thrown over Frank's chest, while Frank was practically off the bed.

Smiling to herself, she left the room. _"They're so cute. I'd better make pancakes for babies. They're going to be famished when they wake up."_

* * *

Hope you enjoyed, please review.


End file.
